"But perhaps you have a r-right to know. If you will excuse me for a time, however, I will r-return after a breakfast. I left my house very early this morning." Weaver noticed the sudden pinched look of faintness that turned von Rittenheim's ruddy face ashy. "He's missed more than one meal," he thought, but said aloud only, "Any time before two o'clock." It was not much that the commissioner learned from von Rittenheim after all, for food brought back self-reliance and courage, and he felt that the whole story of his trouble would be an appeal for sympathy that he could not make. However, he told enough to cause Weaver to say under his breath a few condemnatory things about the deputy-marshal, and then he asked,-- "What are you going to do?" "I hope to find some occupation in Asheville until the time of my tr-rial." "What do you want to do?" "I care not. I am well, str-rong. I fear not labor." Mr. Weaver compared with a glance von Rittenheim's figure with his own puny proportions, and said,-- "No, I should think not!" Then he rubbed his head and asked,-- "Can you teach?" "I know not. Never have I done such a thing. I am a soldier." "That's easily seen. Still, you're a university man." He touched his forehead just where on Friedrich's the tip of his scar was visible. "Oh, yes. I was at Heidelberg." "I suspect you'll do if you-all are willing to try. My boy's fitting for college, and he's getting badly behind in his German. If you'd tackle his instruction for a few weeks, I'm sure it would be of great value to him. Will you do it?" "If you will accept a novice, I shall be gr-rateful." And again Friedrich made his low bow. "Then be at my house at five this afternoon, and here's a week's salary in advance. You'll be wanting it, perhaps." So was Baron von Rittenheim established as Tommy Weaver's tutor, and fortunate he thought himself. Fortunate he was, in that this engagement secured to him his simple living; but most unlucky in that it left him with too much spare time. Had he worked at a task that occupied seven or eight hours a day, his thoughts would have filtered through the weariness of his body, and been purified thereby. But his leisure was abundant, and he spent it in brooding over his troubles. To those that had wrung him before was added his present shame. And his shame was embittered by his suspicion of Dr. Morgan. He held Wilder of no account. He was beneath a gentleman's notice. But Dr. Morgan had pretended to be his friend. He dwelt on all his intercourse with him, and weighed every conversation that he remembered. There came to him half a hundred trifling circumstances that seemed to substantiate his distrust. The lack of his accustomed exercise told on his health. He grew moody and irritable, and daily the wish for revenge grew stronger. Satisfaction was due him, and satisfaction he would have. III A Weak Man's Strength